


Of men and women

by Amie33



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amie33/pseuds/Amie33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“River?”</p>
<p>There’s a genuine smile on the boy’s face and the Doctor cannot believe what’s seems to be the truth. He looks at him from head to toe, and from toe to head, once, twice, babbling incoherent words before he can gather his thoughts and say something intelligible.</p>
<p>“How? When? What? It’s... You... It can’t be!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of men and women

**Author's Note:**

> based on a conversion I had with Kerjen, and she was complaining about the fact that I often do whatever I want with canons. _"What's next, River can regenerate after all and turns into a guy?"_ I couldn't resist the challenge. As a consequence... This story is mad and illogical, don't believe a single word of it. Not a single one. And don't take anything seriously.

 “Hello, Sweetie!”

He turns back, almost jumping at the sudden greeting. He was supposed to be alone in the Tardis, and he hasn’t heard anyone coming in. The thing that’s even more weird and confusing is the fact that he knows this sentence - of course he does, after all those years - but he doesn’t recognise the voice. It’s not her voice. It’s not her. It’s not even a “her”.

He stares open-mouthed at the young man walking in his direction, and it’s like staring at the perfect cowboy. Blue jeans, leather boots, shirt half open, dust covering his clothes, black hair hidden under a stetson - yes, _Stetsons are cool_ , whoever is this man he has great tastes. The only thing that doesn’t fit with the _cliché_ is the gun belt, and the gun itself, that looks like a thirty-three century laser gun more than a nineteen-century revolver. This man looks like the perfect cowboy, but certainly isn’t.

By the time he has analysed his visitor, he’s in front of him, a few inches only from him. He has thrown his jacket somewhere on the floor and the Doctor doesn’t know what’s happening. He doesn’t know where to begin; ask the man who he is, how he has entered his ship, and how does he dare dispose of his dirty, dusty clothes on the floor of _his_ Tardis, like he was familiar enough to do such a thing.

Instead no word comes out of his mouth and the man - no, the _boy_ , he can’t be more than thirty or thirty-five years, which means he’s still a boy compared with the Doctor - the boy smiles and laughs at him. “Stop staring and close your mouth, love.”

Love? _Love_? He opens his mouth even more, and he doesn’t realize it’s a bad idea until the man’s hands cup his face, and the man’s lips reach for his, and the man’s tongue enters his mouth. Oh, a kiss - a _passionate_ , and not unpleasant kiss. He surprisingly finds himself responding to that kiss, leaning against the strong hands that hold him and involuntary moaning. The man presses himself closer, his chest flat against the Doctor’s shirt, and one of his hands sliding from his face around his waist and under his jacket, fingers tickling his back. For a moment the Doctor loses himself in the nice sensation of the hot body pressed against his, all his anger vanished, and he can’t help but think about some people have this power on him, like when River is kissing him and he forgets everything.

Oh. River.

“Stop!”

The Doctor suddenly pulls away as he realizes what he’s doing and that River... - please, River should never know about that, because if she does... she’s going to tease him about it for years, or she’s going to kill him. Or maybe she’s going to stalk and kill that boy. He’s not sure what’s worse.

“Stop, stop, I can’t.” He takes the boy by the shoulders, puling him away... then seems to realize he’s touching him and walks backwards, only to knock his back on the console. Trapped, he’s trapped between his ship and the perfect imitation of a cowboy who has just snogged him senseless and still looks at him with want. Great. What is he going to do?

“It’s nice, but I’m married.” The boy frowns at him with amusement, crossing his arms and waiting for him to continue. “And... trust me, you don’t want to meet her. You don’t want at all. She’s dangerous, a killer, and if she ever learns that you kissed me, she...”

The boy bursts into laughter. He giggles so much that tears appear at the corner of his eyes and his voice echoes in the whole room, deep and low, resonating in the Doctor’s skin until it hits his bones. He shivers, a bit uneasy. This is absolutely not the reaction he was trying to provoke.

“Oh my... Doctor!” the man finally says as he catches his breath. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”

The Doctor frowns, and looks at his visitor carefully. There’s something unusual. The way that man entered the Tardis. The kiss. The jacket thrown on the floor. The way he talks to him... “Who are you?”

The boy immediately stops laughing and his look becomes serious. There’s something in his eyes, sad and inquisitive, something he has already seen in someone else’s eyes and he thought he would never see again.

“You really don’t know?”

“I...” he tries to find something clever to say, or an excuse; he would like to say yes, he really would. He would like to tell that man, whoever he is, that he knows him and understand, but he can’t. This is not the first time, and he mentally curses whatever in the universe keeps doing that to him and the people he cares about -has cared, will care. Someday it’s going to kill him. “I’m sorry.”

But the boy surprisingly smiles, and seems pleased, like somehow it was not such a big deal. “So this is your first time?”

“That I meet you? Yes. This is, I...”

The Doctor trails off as the boy laughs again. Shock, probably. Human reactions could be strange when they face something sad and unexpected. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes when he finally stops giggling. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long and... if only you could have seen your face when I kissed you...”

“Sorry, I’m not sure I understand...”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

The boy reaches for his arm, his touch soft and warm, and the Doctor stares at him with confusion. He looks into his eyes, and there’s something, something he feels like he must know, he must remember, something that seems familiar but... He can’t.

“Okay,” the man breathes in and lets go of his arm, “let’s try that way, it will be easier. When was your last time?”

And then, the Doctor’s eyes widen as the boy fumbles in his pocket and pulls out a blue book. Not any book, _the_ blue book. A blue diary. Her diary. He starts looking into it, turning pages and the Doctor is sure, this is the one. He recognizes the handwriting, he recognizes the pages. It’s...

“River?”

There’s a genuine smile on the boy’s face and the Doctor cannot believe what’s seems to be the truth. He looks at him from head to toe, and from toe to head, once, twice, babbling incoherent words before he can gather his thoughts and say something intelligible.

“How? When? What? It’s... You... It can’t be!”

“Of course it can, I’m here!”

And he understands what he has missed since he - she? - has entered the room. Somehow the eyes are the same and there are a few things, in the way he moves, in the way he talks... even if she’s a man now, there’s something that’s still her, familiar.

“But you... How?”

“I regenerated.”

“You... you _what_? You can’t, Berlin, you gave all your regenerations away!”

“Apparently, I didn’t.”

She’s still smiling - well, he is... River is smiling, and it’s frustrating, infuriating because she talks about that like it's normal but it’s not. Not at all. He is dreaming, nothing of that should exist. It’s against everything he knows.

“But you...” He trails off, incapable of putting words of what he’s thinking about. One of the reason that she... he... (how does it even work?) can’t be here - if he moves aside the fact that she’s now a man - is that River, the River he knows, the one with the brilliant curly hair... It was her last regeneration. He’s sure about that. Because she... she died like that. “In... in the Library, you...”

“Oh... _that_?” River asks, and smiles. _Smiles_. Like it wasn’t important. Like that moment didn’t traumatized him. Like he hasn’t been thinking about that since it happened, grieving blaming himself. “It was just a trick. I was perfectly fine.”

The Doctor doesn’t know what to say. The fact that she’s safe is amazing. The fact that she still can regenerate is absolutely incredible. The fact that she’s now a man... is a bit complicated.

He reaches for River’s face, his fingers scratching against her - his growing beard... River with a beard, it’s almost funny. River as a man. Everything is new, thrilling, mysterious - everything he loves. River smiles at him, his hand covering his and stroking his skin softly - some things never change.

The Doctor approaches then, no need to bend down anymore to cover the difference of height between them, and kisses his wife gently - or is she his husband now? There are a few things they must talk about. But for now, it’s not important, they’re kissing and the Doctor is more focused this time, discovering River’s new mouth with curiosity while she responds tenderly. If this is how she looks like now, he wants to remember everything and learns her by heart. Remember what makes her moans and what she likes, what she dislikes and what makes her shiver.

“River...” he breaks the kiss as she’s all pressed against him and he suddenly thinks about the concrete, physical side of the relationship. “Do we...” he trails off, clears his throat, and flushes.

“Have sex? Oh yes! And wait until you’re a woman!”

He gasps at her, and she laughs.

“Oops. Spoilers!”

**the end**


End file.
